Master the Possibilities
by McManda627
Summary: ii. They had an unspoken agreement to not share details of their sex lives before they got together. But if he wants, she'll share.
1. i: a spoonful of

The obligatory one time only author's note:  
an open ended collection of fills based on the winter 2012 Castle kink meme. To avoid spoilers, prompts are included at the end.  
Read, enjoy, review?

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**i. a spoonful of**

It takes his eyes a minute to adjust to the darkness. She's pulled the curtains shut and almost managed to plunge the room into complete blackness, save for the sliver of sunlight that leaks through the gap where the pieces of fabric come together.

When he can, he scans the room. She's curled up on the bed, her eyes shut. He's fairly sure she's not asleep; her breathing hitches every fourth or fifth breath. He makes his way to the bed and sits on the side, reaching out to run his hand over her cheek.

"Kate?" he asks softly. "How are you feeling?"

A low moan escapes her throat and she nudges her head further into his hand.

He grimaces. "Not good?"

"Oh God, Castle. This is awful. I feel awful." She takes a deep breath. "If I had known this is what morning sickness feels like –"

"You wouldn't have gotten pregnant?" He laughs lightly. "It's not like we planned this."

"I would have made you wear a condom. From now on, you always have to wear a condom."

"A condom?" He makes a face. He can't remember the last time they used a condom. Not since they were married, he's almost sure. "That's going to put a serious crimp in our sex life. I'm not a boy scout, Kate. I'm not that prepared."

"Then we are never having sex again. Ever."

He laughs at her melodramatic tone. "If I recall, you like sex too."

"I've been on birth control for years. My side is taken care of."

"And yet – "

"It's never been an issue before. You must have super sperm or something."

"Super sperm?" He straightens in pride and a small smile crosses his face. "You know, you're probably right. Look at me. I would – "

She raises her head far enough to shoot a halfhearted glare in his direction.

He takes the hint. "I'm sorry." He lowers his body so he's reclined next to her. She's got her head on his shoulder before he's made himself comfortable, but he manages. He gently runs his thumb down her temple and her eyes slide shut again. "I'm sorry. It should end soon."

"I hope so. I'm sick of being tired. And everything makes me nauseous." She glances up at him. "We can add my body wash to that list, by the way."

He cocks his head. "Your body wash?"

"As of this morning," she nods.

"Then we'll get you some new body wash. Something unscented, maybe." He thinks for a second. "Do you want anything right now? Tea? Crackers?"

She shakes her head. "I just want to stay here. The dark seems to make it better. And you."

"Me?"

"You smell good. It makes me feel safe." She smiles wryly as she snuggles closer. "And it's not making me sick."

"Ah, Kate. You really know how to woo a guy."

She laughs. "Yeah."

They're silent again and when Castle looks down, she's asleep on his shoulder. He pulls her closer and grabs his phone with his free hand. He hates to see her like this, his strong wife brought down by nausea and vomiting. So he scrolls through his web results for morning sickness cures. There has to be something they haven't tried.

Ginger doesn't work. She tried the pills to no avail. And ginger ale just made her think of being sick.

They've tried tea. Chamomile tea makes her sleepy and because she's already so tired, she hesitates to drink it. Sipping green tea didn't have any noticeable effect. Peppermint tea works the best, but even then it's only for maybe an hour before she's back to feeling nauseous.

Crackers distracted her from the nausea, which worked for a while. Until it didn't and instead of just feeling nauseous she was actually throwing up. And as it is, she's taken to eating crackers and some sort of protein as a meal when a craving doesn't take over.

So he searches for something else, some alternative remedy that can help her feel more like herself.

He searches until he comes across a lone link to an article about a study that suggests that morning sickness is the result of a pregnant woman trying to reject foreign genetic material of the baby. And that ingesting the unfamiliar genetic material – his sperm – might be a way to build up a tolerance and lessen morning sickness.

Hmm. He's intrigued.

At first he's not sure it makes sense to him or if he's just interested by the opportunity for lots of oral sex, but then he wonders if Kate would even be willing to entertain the idea. Maybe. She's never been put off by the idea of a blowjob; in fact, she's always quite enthusiastic about them. But for medicinal purposes? She's likely to laugh in his face.

By the time she stirs against his shoulder he's trying to figure out a way to broach the idea. _Hey Kate, wanna swallow?_doesn't really seem like it's going to work, but he hasn't been able to come up with anything better.

"Hey," he says quietly as she blinks up at him. "Feel better?"

"A bit, for now." She yawns. "But I don't expect it to last."

They're silent for a minute and he can tell she's concentrating on her breathing, trying to keep down the bout of nausea she's sure is coming. When she speaks, she's quiet. "We're going to have to tell everyone soon. I don't know if I can keep coming up with excuses as to why I'm sick all the time."

"Not without someone thinking you're terminally ill," he agrees, smiling into the darkness.

"I think Esposito already suspects."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He offered to make me tea yesterday."

"Tea? Kate, that doesn't mean he thinks you're pregnant. Maybe he just thinks you're sick."

"Esposito never makes tea. And he told me if I needed anything to just ask. That he wouldn't mind covering for me. With Gates," she adds pointedly.

"Oh."

"Yeah. And if Espo knows, it's a pretty safe bet that Ryan does too," she sighs.

Her pregnancy was a surprise, but not unwanted. They've talked about this. They hashed it all out one night, in bed like they are now, under the cover of darkness. They put every possible fear on the table – her ability to be a mother, having a baby with her job, him starting over with an infant – and came out of it stronger, more sure about this than they ever could have imagined.

But they hadn't talked about how they'd tell everyone else. "Is that a bad thing?" he questions.

"No. I just wish this morning sickness would go away. Then at least I would feel like myself and I could take all the teasing I'm sure we're going to get."

It's probably the best opening he's going to get. He cringes a bit at having his opening be directly following a mention of Ryan and Esposito, but he pushes that aside. "Yeah, about that …"

He trails off and she narrows her eyes at him. He knows she's aware that whenever he starts a conversation like that she's not going to like what comes next.

"What did you do?"

By her tone he can tell she's more wary than upset.

"Nothing! I didn't do – I want you to feel better, Kate. So while you were asleep I did some reading and there might be a way to combat the morning sickness."

She relaxes in his arms and smiles. "That's sweet, Castle. But we've tried everything the doctor has recommended. Teas, ginger, crackers – nothing seems to work all that well.I don't know what's left."

"This article I was reading, it suggests that the reason for morning sickness is it's your body's way of trying to reject alien genetic material." He watches for her reaction, but she's not giving anything away.

She shrugs. "Well I am growing a human. That's pretty alien."

He's encouraged by her response. "Yeah. And the theory is if you're exposed to more of the alien material, you'll build up a tolerance to it. So less morning sickness."

She's quiet as she tries to parse through his meaning. "I don't think I understand. It's not like I can get more pregnant."

"No. But the baby is half you and half me. So to you, the alien half –"

"- is you." There's a slight flicker of understanding in her eyes and he cringes. "So I need to be exposed to you?"

He clears his throat. "Uh … to my genetic material."

"Your – you mean your sperm?"

He raises his eyebrows, instantly regretting his idea to even broach the subject.

"Castle, if this is some weird way to coerce me into sex, it's not really working."

"It's not, I swear! I really did read about it in this health study." He holds up his phone in defense. "And at first I thought it was weird, that maybe I just liked the idea of you –" he trails off, realizing what that sounds like. "- but then I thought about it and it actually does make sense. And you even said e being around me makes you feel less sick. So this is just like an extra powerful dose of me. My super sperm." He watches her bite her lower lip to hide her smile and he's instantly less afraid that she's going to maim him for the suggestion. "Look, if you don't want to, or you think it's too weird, we don't have to. It was just an idea."

She studies him for a long moment before she speaks again.

"And this … genetic material. How am I supposed to be exposed to it exactly?" she asks in a dry tone.

"Uh … the study dealt exclusively with ingestion." She nods impartially and he continues. "It's not like you haven't before," he blurts out.

Her face changes instantly, something between amusement and incredulity. He cringes again. That might have been too far. "Is this a doctor recommended treatment?"

He hesitates. "Uh, no. It's still just a theory at this point."

She nods twice before she shifts away from him. His heart sinks and he tenses, afraid he's pushed her too far with the suggestion. But when she swings a leg over his thighs and leans back, a hand on his chest, his eyes widen and his hands find a grip on her hips. For as well as he knows her, she still manages to surprise him.  
His beautiful, amazing wife.

"You make an interesting argument." She meets his eyes and grows serious. He studies her, tries to figure out what is going on in her mind. She's silent, but a grin breaks out across her face and he instantly relaxes.

She leans down to kiss him. It's slow and sweet, but there's a hurry behind it that pools low in his stomach. She doesn't pull away to break the kiss, instead choosing to mumble against his lips. "You know, morning sickness aside, I'm pretty lucky." He grins up at her, so large it makes her heart skip. "Lucky and so happy."

His heart swells and if he ever had any doubt about her and him and their baby, it's long gone in this moment. She's amazing and she's carrying their baby and he can't quite wrap his head around it all. And when she bites his lip, he stops trying. His focus narrows in to the single point of her lips on his and suddenly nothing else matters.

He can feel her fingers tugging on the buttons of his shirt, but it's hard for him to focus on anything when her tongue is in his mouth. But he can't not notice when her hands run up the bare skin of his chest and her soft touch leaves a trail of fire behind.. And when her lips leave his and she kisses her way down his chin to suck at his neck, he can't stop the moan from erupting from his throat.

She pulls back and giggles, a sound that she only ever lets him hear, readjusting herself so her hips are flush with his. He knows there's no way she can't feel him straining against her and he shifts, pressing his hips more firmly into hers. Her smile grows wider and she leans down again to catch his lips with hers.

Her fingers trail his chest again, but this time they settle against the waistband of his jeans. She makes no move to undo them, instead just resting them against his skin, teasing the exposed flesh with soft caresses. When her lips follow the path of her fingers he sucks in a breath, watching intently as she dots kisses across his chest and stomach.

The button of his jeans slides out of its hole under her nimble fingers. "Kate," he manages, his hesitation breaking through the haze of his arousal. "Are you sure?"

She glances up up him as she pulls him from her pants. Her grasp is just firm enough and her hands are so warm and the look she gives him is so saucy that he's almost afraid of her answer. "I'm always sure," she says, her eyes never leaving his as she shimmys down his body. And then she's tugging his pants down his legs and he manages to lift his hips to help, but he can't stop his groan when she places a firm kiss against him, and when she adds in her tongue he's pretty sure he's going to pass out. He tries to keep his mind; tries to focus on her tongue and her lips and her hands, but it's so warm and wet and so amazing that the only thing that runs through his mind is that it feels so, so good.

Her hands wander, up his chest and down his thighs, touching as much exposed skin as she can. He thinks he's vaguely aware of her humming around him, but his skin is burning so hot and his brain is firing in all directions that maybe he just imagined it.

The pressure in his groin builds and builds until she backs off. She slows her tongue and he finds himself wanting to cry at how well she knows his body, knows exactly how to drive him crazy. He glances down and finds her looking up at him and she doesn't break eye contact when she starts pressing light kisses to his hipbones, watches as he catches his breath.

They've played this game before and he tries to prepare himself for what he knows she's capable of. She presses one last kiss to the skin below his bellybutton and doesn't disappoint. Before he can comprehend her next move, he's down her throat and his eyes are sliding shut. The pressure and the warmth are more, everything is more, and her name is tumbling from his lips over and over until he just can't take it any more.

"Kate. Kate, I'm gonna -" he pants, over and over, hoping that he's coherent enough to warn her.

She pulls back just enough. He can feel her warm breath on him, her hand still working over his length. "That's the point, right?" she says pointedly, before she continues on.

He feels like he's going to explode, like his whole body is just going to blow to pieces and he tries to hold back, to let her keep control. Every cell in his body is focused on her, on her tongue and her lips and her hands as he tries to make the pleasure coursing through his body last as long as he possibly can. Until it's not possible anymore, he can't, and he lets himself go, the pressure exploding into white lights behind his eyelids.

There's no concept of time to him; he has no idea how long he's been in his haze of pleasure. He can feel her mouth pulse around him, but the immense pressure is gone. It's nice. Comforting, almost.

He opens his eyes when he feels her pull back,the lack of the warmth of her mouth him feeling almost empty. He doesn't like that so much. But the look on her face, the slightly smoky, self-satisfied look, makes it better.

"Hi," she says low. "You okay?" He thinks he responds, but she laughs and he's not so sure. "And I thought you were the one with the words."

He clears his throat. "I'm pretty sure you just sucked them all out of me."

"I'm flattered." She slides up his body, curling into his side to wait for him to come back to himself and trails lazy patterns over his skin. He takes a minute to get his breathing back to normal, then catches her cheek in a kiss. "So?" she asks.

"You are so goddamn good at that." He pulls her tighter to his chest and she laughs. "But this was about you, too. How do you feel?"

"Not nauseous," she almost purrs. She throws a leg over his. "Actually, I feel pretty good right now."

That seems to kick the haze from his head. "Yeah? So it worked?"

She catches herself before she can complete the roll of her eyes, choosing instead to run her hand down his chest. "Oh, I don't know, Castle. I think that's going to take more testing. Lots and lots more testing."

His eyes grow wide. "I don't think that'll be a problem. No problem at all."

"Good. 'cause you might be on to something. Lots of benefits." She drops her voice. "Wanna try for more?"

He rolls her so she's flat on the bed and hovers over her. "I really, really do. Lets see what else we can do for you, shall we?"

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prompt: based on the New York Daily News article, oral as a cure for morning sickness


	2. ii: new ways of making them felt

**ii. new ways of making them felt**

She loves these moments. The quiet ones she shares in bed with him, when she allows herself to marvel in how happy and content and safe she feels. She's not sure she's ever felt that way before, and each time it knocks into her, blows her over until she's left with a feeling of overwhelming love.

Love for him.

His head is on her shoulder, his body pressed against her side, and she runs her fingers through his hair. She can feel his warm breath blow across her bare clavicle as he breathes, can feel the slide of his fingers on her exposed stomach. It makes her feel so very cherished.

"I love your skin," he says, breaking the silence and refocusing her attention on him. She hums in the back of her throat in acknowledgement and he continues, "And sometimes I think about the fact that someone else got to love your skin, too." He presses a kiss to the base of her neck. "I hate that."

She tries to crane her neck to look at him, to see his face and work out where this sudden admission of jealousy is coming from, but his face is hidden. Her eyebrows crinkle. "Why?"

His body tenses, like he's caught in a shrug and he doesn't meet her eyes. "I guess I'm a possessive man, Kate. Especially when it comes to you."

"I've noticed," she says, not really able to contain her small smile. It's good that he can't see, but she'd bet that he could hear the pleasure in her voice.

"Is that okay?"

It should bother her, but it doesn't. Not really. With anyone else it would, like a constant reminder that someone else feels entitled to her. But with him it makes her heart flutter when he asserts how much she means to him. "You're pretty good about keeping it private," she says. He's silent and she continues, "You know none of them matter anymore, right?"

He's quick to respond. "I know. I do, Kate. And I don't want to sound melodramatic about it, considering my past. But sometimes I see your skin and then I realize that I'm not the only one to have seen your skin and then I can't stop myself from filling in the blanks." He sighs out a laugh. "Writer's curse."

They're quiet for a long moment. She continues to run her fingers through his hair, unconsciously trying to sooth away his worries. Then she realizes.

"Do you want the stories?" She's volunteering the information before she really realizes what it means.

"I -"

They have an unspoken agreement to not share details of their sex lives before they got together. She doesn't want the details of his, not really. She's pushed his playboy past out of her mind and doesn't need the reminders, instead she chooses to live in their relationship. His past doesn't matter anymore. He's made it pretty clear that she's his future, and that's enough.

He's asked about hers on occasion, some comment or scenario tipping him off to what he thinks is some juicy tidbit about her past, but he's never pushed. And she's never really volunteered the information. It's more fun to tease him with it anyway. Or at least, she thought it was. She never really considered the possibility that it was something that really bothered him.

"If you want," she clarifies. "Whatever you want to know."

The earnest tone in her voice makes him pull back. He studies her, contemplating whether he really wants to know. She tries to keep her face neutral, not wanting to push him either way. If this is important to him, she wants him to be able to ask. Something crosses his face and he speaks in a low voice. "I -" he hesitates again, "You'll answer questions?"

She nods. "I'll answer." She's giving up a good amount of control, but he's worth it. He's always been worth it, she's starting to realize. And maybe it's better this way. She's not ashamed of her past and she'll tell him whatever he wants to know, but she's not sure how far he wants to go. She'll let him set the pace.

He pulls her closer to him and presses his face against her shoulder again. He's quiet so long that maybe she thinks just offering to tell him was enough but then he speaks, his voice low and quiet. It doesn't break the bubble of safety and love they've created.

"How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

He's going all in on the first question, apparently.

She focuses on the weight of his arm across her stomach, lets it anchor her to him. "18. In college."

"Was it awkward?"

"Everyone's first time is awkward," she says, trying not to laugh. "Wasn't yours?"

"Fair," he affirms. "But that was mostly my fault."

"What, Ricky Rodgers wasn't the ladies' man?"

"Ricky Rodgers didn't have a lot of experience," he clarifies with a grimace, raising his head again to look at her. "I kinda … got thrown into the deep end, so to speak. No real learning curve." She doesn't press. She's doesn't really want to know. "Did you?" he asks. "Have experience, I mean."

She hesitates. She's not ashamed, she's not, she just knows he's going to make a bigger deal out of this than it is. "I had some experience. Just not … helpful experience."

She lets him think about that. "So what, you read a lot?" His eyes light up. "Did you have naughty books under your mattress? Did you read them before bed?"

"I -" she can feel the blush rising up her chest and she tries to push it down. "There might have been books." His eyes grow wider. She takes a breath, knowing what she's about to admit will make him crazy. "But mostly I experimented. By myself, at first. And when I felt like I wanted to be with someone else, I thought it would be easier … to start with something familiar. And I knew my body pretty well, so … "

She trails off, locks her gaze with his. It takes him a second to put together her meaning. She can tell when he does, because his jaw drops and he glances down her body before he meets her eyes.

"Oh my God, Kate Beckett, were you with another girl?" He reaches out and runs a hand down her chest, between her breasts. It makes her tingle. "Please tell me you were with another girl."

She wants to touch him, so she trails her fingers up his arm to his shoulder. "I was with another girl."

"That is so hot," he groans out.

"That doesn't make you jealous?" she asks. "I thought that was the whole point of this trip down memory lane."

"The point of this trip down memory lane is to make me not jealous. And that doesn't make me jealous," he says with conviction. "I like that very much."

"Well, I didn't do it to feed into some male fantasy. Consider it me wading into the pool."

His hand starts to wander again, travelling down her stomach and up again, all the way to the underside of her breasts, continuing in long, slow circuits. "I'm not sure I'd say … that … is wading in, but -" She laughs shortly. "Was it - was it what you were looking for?"

Her eyes close and she half shrugs. "It was nice. Familiar, almost. Very low pressure."

His hands grow bolder. He travels down her hipbone to her thigh, including it in a few of his lazy caresses before he pushes her leg aside far enough to slip his in between. When he shifts closer she sighs softly, loves when she feels more of his weight over her body.

"Was it a relationship?"

"Like, were we a couple?" He nods. "No. Not - we were friends. Just curious."

He keeps up his soft touches, up, down, around her skin. "How far did it go?"

She knew he'd want details. He's a curious person by nature, and this … honestly, she'd have been a bit disappointed if he hadn't.

"Hands, mostly."

"Hands, huh?" His hand makes a final journey down, finds a spot between her legs. She knows he can feel her, warm and wet against his fingers. It thrills her, this walk down her sexual past with him so willing and close. His touch is soft, so soft, and her breath hitches. "No toys?"

"No." It's a more of a breathy whisper as she lets herself enjoy his touch. "No toys."

He's quiet, but his fingers keep moving. She struggles with herself, tries to keep her hips from moving with the pulse of his hand. It's hard and her body compensates by making her breath come faster, more irregularly. And then his hand stops and she wants to cry. She opens her eyes to look at him. His eyes are wide and she can see him backtracking.

"Mostly hands?" He pauses, and his eyes narrow, like he's trying to size her up, trying to figure out what she's capable of. "Did you -" Her slow smirk cuts him off and he groans loudly. "Oh my God. And did she -"

She pushes her hips up into his hand, tries to bring him back to her and continue what he started, but he's just staring at her. "Occasionally. Not a lot. Just - sometimes. When it felt right."

Finally his fingers start to move again. He spreads her wetness around and she can feel it coating his hand. "Did you like it?" he asks in a low voice.

She's not exactly sure what he's talking about because it's hard to focus when his fingers move like that. Does he mean going down on another girl? Just being with another girl? So she splits the difference and answers honestly. "It was fine. Just nothing special, you know? No real spark for me."

His fingers slide up, past her bellybutton and over her stomach. They leave a trail of wetness in their wake and she shivers, shivers from the loss of his fingers between her legs, shivers from the cool air on her skin, shivers at the warmth of his body pressed against her. "No spark?" He peppers kisses to her collarbone and her neck. "How long did it last?"

"A couple of months. It was nice, but there was just something … missing." Her fingers are in his hair, holding his head to her skin. She moves her head to the side to give him more room and tingles shoot through her body when he starts in on the sensitive spot at the base of her jaw. "So I went looking elsewhere."

He pulls back. "With men, you mean."

"In college, with a guy from my English class," she says with a smirk.

"And it was awkward?"

"Different," she clarifies. "Very traditional. We dated for a while. Took it slow. Rounded the bases appropriately."

He studies her. "So there was kissing." She nods affirmatively. "But he wasn't your first kiss," he says with a waggle of his eyebrows. She shoots him a look, but he's undeterred. "Did this start as mostly hands, too?" She nods again. "Here?" He places his hands on her breasts, starts slowly teasing her skin. "And then were mouths involved, too?" His mouth joins his hands and she lets out a sound akin to a whimper. He's not sure if it's agreement or pleasure. "Tell me. Tell me about it."

"Oh," she breathes out when his lips come up to play at the skin of her neck.

"Kate. Focus."

She wants to glare at him, to tell him she can't focus when he's so close and doing that with his lips and his fingers, but she tries. Tries to push away the feel of his tongue on her neck and his fingers brushing her nipples. It's difficult because all she wants to do is lose herself in him, so she just starts talking.

"He - oh - he touched me. He was fast. Eager. Not like you." She gasps when his fingers travel back down to that spot between her legs. "Oh, not like you." She revels in the feeling, loves the feeling of him between her legs.

"Did he touch you here?"

She tries to hold back her moan when he slides a finger into her. He can do so much with his fingers, with his touch, and she loves it. He's building that tension in her stomach and she can't help but grind her hips against his hand to try to help it along.

He adds another finger and continues his torturous pace and leans his mouth close to her ear. "Kate. Did he touch you like this? Did he worship your body with his mouth? Tell you how much he wanted to see you come apart under his hands?"

She can't focus on his words. It's just his fingers on her, his voice in her ear, and it doesn't even matter that he's talking about her being with another man. He's everywhere, filling her body and her mind. She doesn't care about her past. She just needs him, wants him desperately. His name escapes her lips on a gasp and she turns her head and searches for his mouth with hers.

When she finds his lips she kisses him hard, tries to focus all the lust in her body into her kiss. His fingers shift and she uses his tongue to stifle her moan and her hips move faster. She's close, so close to the edge of her pleasure, but he keeps her there, doesn't let her shatter around his fingers.

"Did he make you feel this?" he growls against her cheek. He adds his thumb to the mix, circling it around the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex.

And then she can't anymore and heat explodes in her body. She comes around his fingers, clutching at his bicep as she rides it out, panting his name. He continues to work her, bringing her down until she can collapse boneless and sated under his arm.

He waits while she catches her breath, pressing soft kisses to her skin. She struggles against the heaviness of her eyes to look at him, wanting not much more than to snuggle against him and fall into a blissful sleep.

"That was so much better than story time," he says with a cheeky grin.

Even though her brain is fuzzy and she feels like she's seconds away from sleep, she can't stop from asking. "Yeah? You don't want the rest of the story?"

"Maybe later."

His voice is warm and it makes her feel happy. Lighter, almost like she's given him something that no one else can and it fills her with love. She wraps her arms around him, pulls him closer to her body and closes her eyes. She smiles when she feels his lips at her cheek. "Okay," she hums. "Later. For now, we sleep."

"Sleep? Kate -" he whines.

Her voice is low. "Sleep, Castle. I promise I'll make it up to you."

* * *

prompt: Kate tells Rick about her first times while he fingers her.


End file.
